


First Impressions

by dactyliin (Volant)



Category: Star Trek
Genre: Beginnings, M/M, Pre-Five Year Mission, Pre-Relationship, Unrequited Love
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-10
Updated: 2019-03-10
Packaged: 2019-11-14 17:37:48
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,849
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18057056
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Volant/pseuds/dactyliin
Summary: Before the five year mission, Jim and Spock spend some time getting to know each other.





	First Impressions

**Author's Note:**

> This is a re-upload of a one shot of generally the same name. I cleared out my AO3 accounts at the beginning of this year as part of a "get my life together" resolution and I've finally reached a good place where I feel I can upload old (and complete) fics. Enjoy!

It’s a real celebration, the first time that the  _ Enterprise _ returns to earth after Jim takes up the captaincy. For Jim’s crew, because they’d been off-planet for about three months on a supply run to one of the more isolated settlements - not the five year mission they’ll eventually be sent on, but a sweet maiden voyage. For the people on earth, because it was the Federation’s flagship, the one that had played such a large part in taking Nero out, in avenging the billions of deaths he’d caused. 

Thankfully, Starfleet doesn’t really go in for all the hero-worship bull that Jim’s been seeing every time he checks his PADD. Pike had notified him about what was going to happen before they were even in sight of the planet: no parades, not even an official welcoming party. There would be a press conference at the end of the week, where Jim would have an opportunity - a carefully fielded opportunity - to interact with the press and answer questions. Jim’s grateful for that. He knows he’s never been the most tactful of men, and he has a feeling that standing in front of a bunch of cameras right after beaming down from the ship would only be a mistake. 

He lets the crew know what there will be in place of a media frenzy - Starfleet  _ is _ closing the spaceport when they touch down, so the crew is free to invite their families to meet them. Everyone’s very touched when Jim announces that over the intercom. Sulu, though on duty, whips out his PADD and types out a message for his husband and little girl. Jim gets hugs from both Scotty and Keenser. Uhura  _ smiles  _ at him, Chekov sobs something about the girl he left behind in Moscow. 

Spock, characteristically, says nothing. Somehow, that makes Jim feel better - about what, exactly, he doesn’t know, but it does. When the time comes, Spock stands at Jim’s shoulder while they dock, keeping an eye on Sulu’s hand and updating Jim about the changes in their trajectory before the computer even shows that there’s been one. 

Jim knows for a fact that three-month emergency supply runs to outer-planet settlements aren’t what Spock joined Starfleet to do. He’s spent enough time in the biology lab to know that, reading the labels and charts and listening to the detailed oral reports that his first officer keeps of various experiments and studies. Spock is on the  _ Enterprise _ because he wants to discover. He wants to expand the fields of science in ways that no one - neither human nor Vulcan - has before. 

“To feel desire is a particularly human attribute,” Spock said the one time that Jim tried to broach the subject. They’d been in the common room, frowning at each other (well, Jim was frowning. Spock was doing that thing with his eyebrows again, the one that meant Jim might have a chance at winning) and Jim had asked, said something like “well, Mr. Spock, I know this voyage isn’t quite as groundbreaking as you probably expected it to be.” And that had been it, Jim’s answer to the unspoken question of whether he was just wasting Spock’s time dragging him around the galaxy. They’d talked about the older Spock, about their older...selves, a bit, and the memories that Jim had seen were mostly gone. But still, sometimes during the beginning of those three months, Jim would glance up to find Spock standing at a certain angle, or he would find Spock in the labs, or something, and he would get flashes of what could have been (should have? Had once?). 

Still. Since that night, Jim had worried about it less. 

They dock without a hitch. Still, Jim waits on the bridge until Scotty notifies him that all other non-essential crewmembers have beamed down. Then, he makes his way to the ready room, bag in hand.

When Jim rematerializes on the beaming platform, he opens his eyes to organized chaos. There are little kids zooming around, sisters crying, grandparents hugging, people he knows shouting and laughing and talking about a mile a minute over each other. For a minute, Jim’s overjoyed, and then that feeling fades when Jim steps off the platform and a group to his left shuffles out of his way. That celebration going on around him, Jim’s not a  _ part _ of it. He can’t be, he realizes. There’s no one here to meet him (Bones is off like a shot with his little girl. Mom? Hasn’t heard from her in a couple weeks. George? Been AWOL for over a decade. Frank? Now  _ that’s _ a joke) and...there’s really nothing else for Jim to do but make his way back to the cold, empty little block of an apartment that the ‘fleet keeps on reserve for the few days he’s planning to spend planetside. 

It takes a minute for Jim to shake off the unexpected stab of pain that comes with that little realization. Then he realizes that he’s acting like a baby. He shoulders his bag and edges his way through the crowd, nodding to people and shaking hands with a select few brave strangers. 

It’s a short trip to the exit, and then Jim finds himself standing on a San Francisco curb, waiting for his taxi to arrive. It’s cool this time of year, which Jim had somehow failed to take into account, so he’s shivering a little when Spock appears at his side. 

“Captain,” Spock says. Jim turns to look at his first officer. 

“Spock,” Jim says. “What’re you doing?”

“I am endeavoring to ‘catch a taxi’ as they say,” Spock says. 

“No,” Jim says. “I mean, don’t you have anybody to- Uhura-”

“Nyota and I terminated our romantic relationship long before the Enterprise embarked upon her maiden voyage,” Spock says, quirking an eyebrow at Jim. “We remain close friends, but I believe she wished to spend this time with her family.”

“Ah,” Jim says. Then he realizes. “Oh, so that means you’re alone, too.” 

“Loneliness is-”

“A human attribute,” Jim interrupts. “Yeah, yeah. I get it.”

“However,” Spock says. “I do find that I am without company this evening.” He clasps his hands behind his back. Jim can’t help but notice that Spock doesn’t have any luggage.

“Same,” Jim says. He licks his lips. “Where are you headed?”

“Starfleet maintains a small apartment for me,” Spock says. “I will rest there for the evening and visit Starfleet Headquarters tomorrow to debrief.”

“Geez,” Jim says. “Tomorrow morning?” It’s late already - somewhere around midnight, and they’re an hour away from the blocks of buildings that Starfleet calls housing.

“I will receive optimal rest,” Spock says like he’s read Jim’s mind. Jim likes the way he says it, though. It’s like he can hear Spock smiling, even if the Vulcan’s face remains as impassive as ever.

“I’m sure  _ you  _ will,” Jim says. “I’m not really tired yet. Don’t feel like settling down.”

“I understand,” Spock says. Jim’s taxi draws up to the curb.

“Do you want to share,” Jim says, so quickly he surprises himself. “Since we’re going to the same place, anyway.”

“A logical decision,” Spock says without even pausing. 

Spock sits on the right of the cab, Jim on the left. It almost makes Jim laugh, because this is always the way that they orient themselves on the bridge. He gives the driver their address and sits back. Spock looks straight ahead, at the back of the seat in front of him, and barely even blinks when the car jerks into motion. Spock is wearing a heavy Vulcan coat-thing over his uniform - it’s black, with clean lines and severe embroidery. It looks warm. Everything about Spock looks so warm.

Jim looks away. He watches the lights of the city flash by. 

“Perhaps,” Spock says. Jim turns to find Spock looking at him. 

“Yes?” Jim says.

“Perhaps we might procure a ‘late night snack’ before we part ways,” Spock says. “If you still have no desire to rest when we reach our destination. I know of an establishment we might visit.”

“Absolutely,” Jim says. He smiles. “Do you mean Blondie’s? I used to go there all the time when I was at the Academy. Don’t tell me we managed to miss each other for three years.”

“It seems that we did,” Spock says, voice seeming to smile again. Jim settles into the laminate seat of the taxi. 

“Their coffee’s awful,” Jim says. “Bones could drink it by the gallon, but I always had to get tea. With those little, what do you call them, those Australian biscuit things.”

“Tim Tams,” Spock says.

“Oh no,” Jim says. “Don’t tell me you don’t like Tim Tams.”

“I do not dislike them,” Spock says. He folds his hands in his lap. “However, during my early days at Starfleet, I was unaware of the Vulcan response to processed sugar and - a regrettable incident occurred, of which I would prefer not to speak.” 

“ _ No _ ,” Jim gasps. “You got drunk on Tim Tams.”

“Captain,” Spock says. 

“Oh, right,” Jim says. He laughs. “It’s an incident of which you would prefer not to speak.”

And there it is. Spock’s head turns, his eyes drifting to Jim’s. Contact. 

Jim thinks,  _ all I’ll ever need is the  _ Enterprise  _ and this. _

Then he thinks  _ fuck. _

It’s a mistake, Jim knows it is. Nothing good ever comes from falling for your coworkers, let alone your first officer, the guy who once stranded you on an ice planet, who once tried to strangle you, whose planet you failed to save. Who’s been unfailingly loyal, who happens to have an amazingly dry (but somehow still hilarious) sense of humor, who can somehow read Jim like a book without even turning a page.

They don’t really speak for the rest of the drive. It isn’t even that awkward - well, not for Spock at least, because Jim knows that touch-telepath thing only works when there’s skin to skin contact and heaven knows there hasn’t been any of that. Sometimes Spock points at something outside and mentions an interesting fact. Sometimes Jim tells a story about something that happened in the city when he was a cadet. Once, he nods off at a red light, but jerks back awake as soon as it turns green, he’s sure. Sometimes they look at each other. 

They do go to Blondie’s. Spock orders them a pot of some ridiculously named tea and Jim buys a plate of wafers that are supposed to be similar to what Vulcans have with their drinks. No sugar.

The tea is great, the wafers are  _ not _ , though Spock eats enough of them that Jim doesn’t have to feel bad about the spent money. Then, Spock and Jim walk back to the housing complex together. They’re in the same building, it turns out, but on different floors - Spock is on eleven, Jim on seventeen. Still, even once Jim’s alone in the elevator, or even later when he’s in his empty apartment, turning down the stiff, cool sheets of a bed he’s never slept in, a warmth stays with him.


End file.
